Endless Impossibilities
by leighthepeach
Summary: The story of Sarah and Jareth is not always happy. Nor is it simple. It has no clear end, nor beginning. But has spun itself a thousand times, a thousand different ways. A collection of moments between Sarah and Jareth. Each chapter is its own stand alone scene. Any interactions wherein Jareth and Sarah share any romantic relations, Sarah is 18 years or older.
1. Artful Arrangement

_**Summary:**_ Sarah prepares to face the faerie court, a gathering of beings endowed with magic far beyond her. But Jareth knows something she has yet to fully discover.

* * *

She sits at the mirror, staring into the glass as if to make sense of the image there. Eyes narrowed and calculating, the bright green sparking with the defiance that rises at even the slightest challenge.

Jareth's tread is nonexistent, heels well above an inch betraying not even the smallest click upon the stone floor. When his face appears there, just above hers, she does not start nor even gasp in surprise. No, such girlish displays of fear have fallen away with the passage of time. And long ago, so long ago, she learned that he had no power that she did not give him.

Instead those mesmerizing eyes flick up, almost annoyed. A mask to hide behind. For while she does not fear Jareth, there is still apprehension at the unknown.

"They'll know."

"Yes, I daresay they will. But why should you care?"

Sarah's mouth twists. "Why should I care? They're magic. You're magic. Every damn thing in this upside down world is magic. But me."

"Which makes you all the more formidable." The words are sharp, inarguable. Yet she raises a fine, dark brow all the same.

Jareth sighs. Gloved fingers lift and ghost over her hair, dark and heavy and arranged in a loose braid that sweeps around and over her left shoulder. Elegant, yet simple enough to say she doesn't need intricacies to be beautiful.

"Think of it, my dear." Deftly, his fingers pluck at the air, a golden flower materializing between thumb and forefinger. "Here is a mortal girl. No magic, no sorcery to her name." The flower slides against her locks, then rests among the dark tresses. "She enters the world of monsters and mayhem, where some can bend reality itself and even the earth beneath her feet cannot be trusted." Another flower, and another, each placed just so. She shivers as one is carefully arranged at her nape, the pads of his fingers sliding briefly against the skin of her neck.

"You, Sarah. They will see a girl who defied time even as it reordered. A girl who solved a labyrinth centuries in the making, whose depths many enter yet none escape. They will see a girl who knows her own dreams and breaks them if need be. A girl who faced the King of Goblins."

He pauses here, a wry smile curving his lips. "Who, I might point out, has no small power himself." The hands at her hair cease, and instead lower to her shoulders. They slide ever so slowly upward, and she can feel the warmth of his palms through the thin leather.

"All this you've done. Without their magic, their tricks, their deceit and lies. Don't you see, Sarah?" Her head tilts back as his fingers trace up the sides of her throat. "You've bested them all. And how terrified they shall feel, how insignificant, and weak. To know that you have more sway, more force, more power than any of them shall ever dream."

Sarah's gaze is intense. He can see it growing in her. So close.

"They will know your place, Sarah. As should you. And it is far above theirs." She reaches back, grabbing his blond hair, pulling him down in silent command. He smiles wickedly, lips eagerly closing over hers in a ravenous kiss.

She is still learning, still discovering herself. But soon Sarah Williams shall find what he has known from the first.

Far beyond one King. There is no one with power over her.


	2. The Babe

_**Summary:**_ AU wherein a child has one mission and one mission only, to humble the Goblin King in the most fitting way possible.

* * *

Impossible. The word echoes in his mind, slamming in an endless cacophony against the confines of Jareth's skull.

Few runners ever made it past the first corridor, always running ever onward, looking for corners that would never come. Fewer still made it through the initial twisting paths, turning themselves around with rarely a need for goblin intervention. A few bright, bold souls attempted to traverse the forest of bone and fiery woods. And only Sarah herself ever arrived at the castle in one piece.

Yet he watched this youth arrive at the gate unannounced. The entrance appeared to them as if by its own choice, and they had knocked on the ancient doors before pushing them wide, as if wanting to let him know they were coming.

Expertly, they ran down the first long trail and paused by a particularly large crack in the wall. He saw them bend down, dark hair covering their face. They set off again with a self-assured smile. They slipped through the hole in the outer wall and took off on a trail that would eventually lead to the goblin city. If left unchecked, at least.

Perturbed, the Goblin King rearranged their path, cutting off their direct route and sending them into the smaller mazes. Surely the bizarre instincts guiding this annoyance would fail there.

But no. Instead, they reached into the pocket of their jeans, pulled out a piece of chalk, and scribbled an arrow on one of the cobblestones. Only three steps and they paused, turning to look down the next two corridors. As they considered, a goblin shifted the marked stone. Lifting it and turning so that the arrow pointed in the opposite direction. Or would have, if quick hands hadn't snatched the goblin from its hole.

The King was too late to hear what they said, but they tucked the goblin beneath their arm and demanded an answer at each twist and turn. The traiterous vermin pointed a trembling claw obediently, until they reached a point even it did not know. Leaving it to scurry away, the intruder continued on alone.

All this they had done in a matter of minutes. And now the word impossible resounds again as they solve every puzzle they reach, conquer every trial he conjures. False alarms shout and scream, and they mildly thank them for the performance. Fierys scurry away from them in fear when they tear off their heads and send them flying. And the goblins, the goblins! Those faithless wretches bow to their every whim.

When they step into the castle, he is there upon the throne. A foreboding figure draped in black, his eyes sharp with displeasure.

Most quell at the sight of the Goblin King, knowing he can distort dreams and reorder time itself. But their piercing blue eyes meet his glare for glare.

"I don't believe anyone invited you in."

"I did knock. No one answered. Seems neither of us have the best manners."

The Goblin King's lips tighten into a thin line. "You have gone to an awful lot of trouble to get here. Why?"

They smile. An uneven tilt of lips he has seen before. "There's an old story I heard as a child. About a King who lived in a labyrinth. He made it, apparently, and designed it to be unsolvable. But, there was a rumor that if anyone could reach the center, the King would have to grant them a wish. As a reward. I thought it was worth a shot."

The Goblin King stands and crosses the room, heels clicking against stone. Only when he reaches them does he start to laugh.

Shaking his head in a mockery of sympathy, he says, "You really shouldn't believe everything you hear in stories."

He watches them expectantly. Waiting for their cocksure posture to crumble, their impertinent gaze to fall.

But no, their smile only grows.

"I don't need a wish from you to get what I want. But like I said. It was worth a shot."

"Oh? And what is it that you want to badly?" The Goblin King snaps.

"For you to go to the Bog of Eternal Stench."

Jareth surely has a witty reply, but it is lost when the floor beneath his feet gives way. And then he falls, falls, through a swirl of glittering dust and lands in the putrid waters of the Bog.

And there on the banks is the trespasser. Their blue eyes laughing as they look down at his struggle. "You know, I really should tell you who told me that story."

They walk to the very edge of the water, "But mom told me you figuring that out should be a piece of cake."


	3. Terrible Liar

She has always known him to be cruel. From the moment he snatched away her younger brother, it was there. The satisfaction in his eyes at her dismay, his malicious laughter as she was confronted with the supposedly insurmountable labyrinth.

But this she does not expect. And perhaps more fool her, for underestimating him.

Since her victory, Sarah's friends kept their word. She did need them for no reason at all save that she loved them. And each month, when the moon reached its peak, they visited. Movie nights when her parents were out, rousing games of scrabble and charades left her smiling the next day. Long, frantic talks til the early hours of morning eased the fears of her heart that crept steadily back in during their absences.

After the first year, they surprised her with a grander treat than she could have ever imagined. Returning to the labyrinth, its dusty roads and orange-lit sky. Its darkness and excitement and endless possibilities.

The reality that it did exist.

From then on, every third visit was hers to make, journeying back into the Underground, sighing with nostalgic relief every time her feet met the cobblestones.

Even as she grew older and years passed, Sarah never once neglected those meetings, never failed to make time for those so precious to her. Steadfast in her faithfulness lest she miss an opportunity to laugh with Hoggle, hear one of Didymus' grand tales and ostentatious shows of loyalty, receive one of Ludo's hugs that made her feel so safe, so loved.

But then, one night they did not come. Their next meeting was filled with tearful apologies, thin excuses that sounded wrong from their lips, like they were repeating someone else's words. And Hoggle's eyes tightened when she said so.

It grew more frequent. One month passed, then two and three. So many that Sarah feared she might never see them again. And with that fear came rage. Rage that made her speak the words, the goblins coming at her demand and whisking her Underground. With trembling claws and terrified red eyes, they scattered as soon as she found her feet outside the entrance to the labyrinth.

And now, with hands on hips and brows drawn low, she waits, knowing he will not ignore such impudence.

A swirl of shimmering dust and he appears. Draped in black from head to heel, the Goblin King looms like a shadow, his eyes narrow slits.

"Let me see them." Commanding and pleading, Sarah dares to speak first.

A mistake. A dark smile twists his lips and she knows the words are not the right ones. "Who?" Too innocent, mocking her.

"My friends, damn you! Hoggle and Sir Didymus and Ludo."

The muscles in his jaw tighten and his arms cross. Black leather creaks softly as his hands clench into fists. "Ah, yes. _Poor_ Sarah, longing for companions who cannot see you."

No longer a fearful girl caught up easily in tricks, she spits, "Cannot is very different than will not. They want to see me! It's you! You're keeping them away, keeping me from them."

The Goblin King says nothing, continues that horrible smile. Confirming his guilt as if it doesn't matter.

"Why do you hate me so?" It is too much, knowing her friends want her as much as she does them. Knowing this King amuses himself with her pain. Her green eyes accuse him, shamelessly beg him.

And for a moment, his smile freezes, falters.

Then deliberately twists into a grimace. "I do not hate you," he snaps. Such venom laces his voice that it seems he wishes he could.

"You're a terrible liar!" Sarah meets him glare for glare, furious spots of red in her cheeks. "Why else would you keep them from me?"

"It has only been by my generosity that you have seen those retches at all!"

The words crack like a lash, cutting just as deep. And it is with horror that Sarah knows them to be true.

One moment he is feet away and the next he stands right above her, his piercing eyes bright with fury. "For years I have watched you consort with those miserable creatures. For years I have endured your laughter, your smiles, your wit given to fools. I have seen them console you and rile you, please you and irritate you. And every moment was a gift, only received by my will."

Lips parted, eyes wide, Sarah cannot find her words. The anger in her has died, replaced by bewilderment.

His gaze runs over her face, lingers too long. Much quieter now, he scoffs but with less malice, "Did you think Hoggle arrived in your room by his own power? That Didymus pulled you into the Underground by sheer force of will? So much you learned in this place, and yet _so little_ you seem to remember."

 _Nothing is as it seems._

 _You take too much for granted._

A faint echo in her mind, pounding in her heart.

"But why?" she whispers. Why help her? Why allow meetings he despises? Why not tell her until now?

The Goblin King–Jareth holds her gaze, searches for some answer there. Finally, he murmurs, "As I said, I do not hate you."


End file.
